The Lies We Live

suicide

I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you.

I think I was 15 when I tried to kill myself. And to be truthful, I didn't want to die. Not really. I think I wanted someone to know that I was dying. I wanted to scream at the people around me, saying that I wasn't ok and that I felt myself deteriorating each passing minute. It sucked to know then, and now still, that no one would ever truly understand. Because life sucks and nobody listens.

It's understandable why no one wants to talk about people killing themselves, and if it does so happen, it's meant as more of a joke rather than an actual objective conversation piece. I get it, ok. We mock the pain we haven't endured, and bury the one that we do. It's a terrible way to live I guess, but for most people, that's just reality.

With all the God awful things going on in the world right now, I wonder why haven't more people committed suicide yet? The list of bad things just seems to be never ending. And yet we still hold on to the small things, the bouts of hope that we wrap ourselves in, delude ourselves with. Stupid reasons, like the plant, dying, or your makeup going to waste. Then there are the more important ones. Selfless vows we silently make in the hopes that maybe if we pray loud enough, the perfect accident will happen and then it won't be our fault anymore.

In my own life, I've heard stories. Whispers of people that used to be. The brown boy who fell in love with the black girl and couldn't bear to live without her when his parents said no. He stood solemnly in front of the train tracks, not bothering to move when it came hurtling by. I pray that it was painless. The same train tracks where senseless teenagers go to smoke in peace. The same one that's five minutes away from my house. It's hard not to imagine what it feels like, having the weight of a thousand pounds crash into you at the speed of 78 km/hr.

There was also the nice boy. A kid who befriended all and trusted none. Until his mother found him hanging lifeless from the fan in his bedroom. It must take a lot of trust to kill yourself and hope that everything will work out anyway. It won't.

If a tree falls in a forest and no one's there to hear it, does it dare to make a sound? Although the point of it all is to make you ponder whether life still runs, even if you're not there to see it, here's another perspective: If I kill myself and no one stops to care, is it ok to do it? When someone's about to commit suicide, they'll often cut off all the strings attached. Push people away, knowing that they'd be better off indifferent. It's not a matter of hating the person but hating the fact that they care about you.

If you asked me, I don't think there's one specific reason why people end up at the bottom of rivers, or with nooses around their necks. Maybe it's family or friends, but people can only do so much damage, the rest is you. It's you who actively makes that plan and then decides to carry it out. You who willing delves into the pain in order to blast out the other pain. The all too real pain. I'll admit, it's not fair what we do to ourselves and each other, but that's just life I guess. Maybe it's addiction or money, or school, or jobs; but trust me, no one wants to kill themselves because of a small bump in the road.

When it happens, they send you to a therapist or a counselor, and here's what they tell you:

-Stay Strong

-It gets better

-No problem is too big

-You have to believe in yourself

-Think of all the people you will leave behind in the process

-You're so young, things will get better

But here's the thing. Wouldn't I have considered all these things prior to my attempt? In fact, those are the exact reasons why I should commit suicide in some cases. The reality is, this is our burden, not theirs, and that means that they have close to no clue what's going on within you. And Lord knows that even you don't know that.

I think for once I'd like to hear silence when I go there. Know that my tears are acknowledged instead, of them trying to wipe them on site. Understanding, in these times, goes way further any 'help' they could ever offer.

I guess what I'm ultimately trying to say, is that it's awfully terrible, but it does happen. And sometimes there's not much we can do about it. It is my deepest hopes that one day the world will learn to understand, not only others but more importantly themselves. Then maybe we can start to work on how to save them.